


would you have me, would you want me?

by bethchildz



Category: Dead To Me (TV)
Genre: F/F, Smut, bottom Judy and top Jen having sex outdoors I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:34:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25669027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethchildz/pseuds/bethchildz
Summary: Maybe Judy is onto something with this whole universe-looking-out-for-you bullshit because she looks at her one day, her smirk darker than usual, before saying, “If you’re gonna keep looking at me like that at least ask me on a date first.”
Relationships: Judy Hale/Jen Harding
Comments: 33
Kudos: 146





	would you have me, would you want me?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lagunasnudebeach](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lagunasnudebeach/gifts).



> hi, this is me shamelessly popping in with some smut instead of writing chapter 3 of _don’t make it easy on me_ , because sometimes you just need a break from angsty Judy to dive into horny Jen? Also hi if you know me irl and know my ao3, don’t read this, it’s best for both of us ❤️ 
> 
> shoutout to knebworth for being an incredible beta & queenC_13 for always hyping me up. internet friends who read and edit each others smut are Real Ones ily 
> 
> title from betty by taylor swift

It’s obscene really, the things she envisions when Judy is wearing one of her pretty floral dresses and she’s prancing about the kitchen like some kind of hand-wrapped gift from heaven. 

And honestly, it isn’t like she hadn’t noticed how hot Judy is before; she had always thought she was beautiful, in a hippie kind of way, with her bangs and her crystal pendants and array of adorable boots that barely even match her dress. But it’s just that, now, it’s _all_ she can think about. It consumes her days, and she’s left with a hand in her underwear at 2am when she can’t sleep, thinking about how loud her best friend would be in bed, how much she would take, how much dirty talk she’d like, if she’d lay herself bare for Jen, letting her take and take and begging for more. She always comes with a hand planted firmly over her own mouth, muffling her moans with a blush that she can feel heat her cheeks despite the fact she is entirely alone, the room pitch black and the house silent around her.

She sometimes wonders if Judy is feeling the same way. She thinks of her, alone in the guesthouse, her hands (god, those hands, with their mosaic of rings that haunt her dreams, imagining Judy slowly taking them off for her, her eyes dark and wanting) tucked shyly beneath her kimono, touching herself while she thinks of Jen. It makes Jen shiver, imagining Judy coming, all high-pitched moans and tousled hair splayed out on her pillow. Often, afterwards, when she removes her own wet fingers from her underwear and she’s forced to deal with the aftermath of her orgasm, she feels a different kind of shudder, one that feels much more like shame, and she falls asleep with a few tears staining her pillow (but she feels satiated, too, for now, and the burning between her legs has calmed). 

She sees it in Judy’s eyes, though, that she _knows._ If she brought it up, she’d probably blame it on her Pisces intuition, or some other woo-woo bullshit that Jen doesn’t understand, but it roughly translates to a small raise of the eyebrow, or a glimmer in her eye, accompanied with a knowing smirk that drives Jen mad because if she _does_ see it, can’t she help her out a little and make the first move? Jen hasn’t needed to worry about flirting in over 20 years, and she’s not exactly well-versed in the art of sapphic seduction (the few times she hooked up with girls in college don’t count, because mostly they only wanted to impress their boyfriends and the vodka did most of the work for her), not like _Michelle_ and her magic fucking pussy. 

But maybe Judy is onto something with this whole universe-looking-out-for-you bullshit because she looks at her one day, her smirk darker than usual, before saying, “If you’re gonna keep looking at me like that at least ask me on a date first.”

Jen almost spits out her wine.

It’s not like it’s the first time Judy has said something suggestive, but it’s the first time she has really called Jen out, and despite the fact she’s been shamelessly checking her out for the last half-hour, she feels embarrassed, like a kid caught with their hands in the cookie jar. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she lies, and she takes another sip of her wine, watching Judy shift in her seat. She wonders, for a moment, how much she could make her squirm. A rush of arousal hits her full-force between her legs and she almost has to wince.

“Oh, sure, Harding. You think I can’t see the way you’re giving me those bedroom eyes?”

“Bedroom eyes, Judy? Seriously?” She scoffs, but her cheeks are still a little flushed. She wills herself to lean in to this feeling, the wine warm in her bloodstream and the fall breeze cool against her neck (her hair is piled on her head in a messy bun that she perhaps purposefully wore for Judy because she mentioned once she likes Jen with her hair up. _Perhaps_ ).

Judy is laughing all of a sudden, a genuine kind of full-body laugh that always makes Jen feel warmer somehow. But then Jen is leaning in a little closer, and she places her hand gently against Judy’s thigh. She revels in the way Judy falters, her face suddenly sobering, and the small puff of air that leaves Judy’s lips falls softly against Jen’s face. They’re so close now, and her heart is racing.

“Hmm, and is that doing it for you, huh?” Jen smirks, and pulls back. She can see the disappointment flash across Judy’s face before it’s replaced with something Jen hopes is arousal. Her eyes are dark, dangerously dark, and her mouth goes dry.

Judy doesn’t say anything for a while, and Jen can tell she’s trying to even out her breathing, and there’s some kind of deep thrill rushing through Jen’s body; she has barely touched her and already she’s a mess, her pupils blown wide and her mouth parted a little. God, she wants to take her, right now, and it’s almost painful to hold back. 

“Aw, baby, speechless already?”

“You talk a big game, Jen,” she finally says before she takes a sip of her own wine, “but show, don’t tell.”

“Oh please, like dirty talk doesn’t make you squirm,” she laughs, and she swallows hard when she sees Judy blushing. This is the picture she can never get out of her head: a blushing, dishevelled Judy, her dress falling tantalisingly around mid-thigh, and she can’t help but wonder what noise she would make if she slipped her fingers just slightly underneath the fabric. As if Judy is reading her mind, she spreads her legs a little, the tiniest fraction that could be dismissed as a simple shift of position, but Jen knows better. 

She gives Judy a deadly smirk and raises her eyebrows, looking from her legs to her face, as if to say _I know what you’re doing._ Judy preens under Jen’s scrutiny, as if she’s revelling in the way Jen is almost inspecting her, dragging her eyes across the stretch of her body. 

“You’d be such a good girl wouldn’t you?” And it’s supposed to be teasing, but it comes out sounding so much more genuine than Jen intends it. If Judy notices the way Jen’s voice falters, she doesn’t say anything, because she’s leaning her head back against the outdoor couch and turning to look at Jen through hooded eyes. 

She nods and bites her lip and Jen thinks the floor might actually give in; she might tumble to her death, because there’s no way that Judy, _her_ _Judy_ , is really looking at her like she’s begging to be ravished. It’s so much hotter than she could have ever imagined.

“Oh god, Jen,” Judy finally says, “yes.”

And Jen figures she could tease her; she could trail her hands up her thigh and feel the wetness that must be seeping through the lace of her underwear right now; she could look her dead in the eyes and give her a tantalising promise of more before pulling away, but she’s not sure she’d be able to hold back. Not now. Not when Judy is spreading her legs wider, the wine glass long discarded beside her, and the material of her dress is bunching around her thighs, almost to her waist, and Jen can actually _see_ the evidence of her arousal. It makes her dizzy. 

“Aw, babe,” she teases, “look at you.” 

She squirms the longer Jen smirks at her, shifting between rubbing her thighs together for some kind of relief and spreading them wider as if to pull Jen in. She’s still wearing her jacket, and Jen suddenly leans in and pulls at it, commanding she takes it off. She doesn’t need to be told twice.

It’s kind of cold today, and Jen can see the goosebumps rise on Judy’s skin, so she briefly considers offering to move this to the guest house, but before she has the chance, Judy is pulling her dress up higher. She watches Jen watching her, and making sure her eyes are unwavering, she begins to tuck her fingers beneath the waistband of her underwear, pulling until they’re at her knees. Jen thinks she’ll stop there, but then she’s kicking off her boots, and that alone is enough to leave Jen throbbing, this vision of Judy undressing before her, but then she’s using her feet to drag the material down the rest of her legs, as though she doesn’t even have the time or ability to reach down and remove them with her hands. This time, Jen doesn’t censor the guttural moan that leaves her lips and seems to echo around them. 

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” Jen breathes, and her voice comes out low and husky and she can see Judy shiver at the sound of it. Then, Judy smirks and giggles a little, and Jen can’t help but roll her eyes, “and a brat, apparently.”

Judy is laughing again, head thrown back, because Judy always seems to radiate this warmth, this uncensored happiness that flows from her, and the way she’s sitting – legs wide apart, showing herself to Jen – she looks so at peace, so comfortable with her body, and Jen feels a pang of _something_ deep in her chest. She can’t help it, the way she reaches out when Judy is distracted, and when she touches her, it’s not slow at all; it isn’t teasing and it isn’t coy, and Judy gasps, her whole body seems to jump, before she moans, loud and free. 

“Oh, fuck, Jude, you’re so wet for me,” Jen says, easily slipping two fingers into Judy at once, revelling in the way Judy’s hips grind down against her hand. She leans over her, watching as her chest heaves, and from this vantage point, she has the perfect view of Judy’s cleavage, and she can feel herself moaning even louder. 

“God, Jen, please. Please, fuck me.”

“Yeah? You want it?”

“I want it, I want it,” Judy moans, over and over. It sets a fire deep in Jen’s belly, and she picks up her pace, summoning confidence she never knew she had just so she can hear Judy’s voice getting louder and louder. They’re outside; Karen could be lingering around here somewhere for all she knows, but for once, she doesn’t care, because the obscene sounds of Judy’s wetness filling the cool air around them sends such a thrill through Jen’s body, she isn’t sure how she’ll ever come back from this.

She fucks her hard underneath her dress, and Judy is clawing at her back, pulling her closer and closer. Jen curls her fingers and it must hit a spot Judy likes because suddenly she’s throwing her head back even more violently than before, and her voice is lower than Jen expected, and all of a sudden, Judy is tightening around her fingers, her wetness coating her hand as she reaches an impossibly loud orgasm (and if the neighbours _do_ hear, well that’s their problem). 

“Holy fuck, Jude,” Jen breathes a small laugh, slowly removing her fingers when she’s sure Judy’s aftershocks have finally stopped. 

“You’re really fucking good at that,” Judy laughs back, opening one eye to look at Jen with a smirk before closing them again, leaning back against the couch and breathing a content sigh. 

“You think?” Jen tries to go for cocky, but there’s a vulnerability there; a genuine question.

“Um, fuck yeah. I can’t remember the last time I came from just penetration.”

“Ew, Judy, “penetration”?”

“That word doesn’t do it for ya?”

“No! It’s so clinical,” Jen scrunches up her nose. She sits back against the couch next to Judy and without thinking about it, brings her fingers up and sucks them clean. Judy must have been watching, because suddenly she grabs Jen’s hands and pushes them back, reaching over to straddle her lap.

“God, do you know how hot you are?” She asks, looking her dead in the eye. Her face is flushed, and her hair is messy, and the glow of the outdoor living room seems to light up her hair like a halo.

“I have a feeling you’re gonna show me.”

“Oh, yeah?” She leans back and smiles at her, and it isn’t the first time, but Jen thinks she has never seen someone so equally adorable and sexy in all her life. And then she’s standing up, and for a second Jen worries she’s about to leave, but suddenly she’s getting on her knees, sitting back on her heels and looking up at Jen from between her legs.

“Fuck,” Jen moans, and she can feel her body sinking into the couch cushions, her hips moving of their own accord. Judy’s hands are at her waist, fumbling with the button of her jeans and undoing the zipper. She drags them down her legs and throws them somewhere beside her, taking her time to simply look at her, at every part of her, and Jen is still wearing her underwear and her shirt but she’s never felt so consumed before, so completely _desired_ in a way that makes her feel whole again, and she has to bite back tears. Luckily, Judy seems more than a little preoccupied, because she doesn’t notice, and instead she starts kissing her way up Jen’s thigh, stopping when she reaches the lace of her underwear.

“Can I take these off?” She asks, an earnest expression on her face, and Jen can’t help but laugh. 

“Uh, yeah. How else do you expect to do this?”

“You think I can’t make a woman come with her clothes on?” She looks up at her from the floor, “You severely underestimate me, Jen.”

And the thought is _really_ fucking hot, but the wetness between her legs is also getting incredibly uncomfortable and if Judy doesn’t fucking touch her soon she thinks she might actually explode.

“Just fucking take them off, Jude.”

She does, and the feeling of her fingers slowly dragging the lace down her legs sends a shiver down her spine. She can hear Judy gasp when she sees her, and despite the arousal that is completely overtaking her body, her eyes shoot open, somehow expecting some kind of disgust or concern to be worrying Judy’s features (fuck Ted for making her feel so paranoid about her own fucking body), but all she finds is a look of pure _love,_ and an experienced kind of determination that has Jen physically shaking.

“You’re so beautiful,” she says, and before Jen can really take in the words, turn them around in her mind and really savour them, she’s following up with, “and I think you’re dripping onto the couch.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Judy, will you just eat my pussy?”

And she would have pulled her in by her head, lacing her fingers in her hair, but suddenly Judy leans in, and when her tongue finally touches her clit, she feels her entire body twitch like she has just been electrocuted.

“Oh fuck,” she gasps, and now she does hold on tightly to Judy’s hair, pulling her impossibly closer. Judy is moaning into her body, and she can _feel_ it, and something about the way the air now smells of sex, and Judy is entering her with her tongue, is enough to have her on the verge of orgasm before she can really acknowledge what’s happening.

“I’m gonna come, fuck I—”

“Come for me, please, Jen,” Judy mumbles, leaning back for a moment to look into Jen’s eyes. And then her tongue is everywhere all at once, and the second she starts making torturous patterns over her clit Jen is gone – one hand tangled in brunette curls and one digging her nails deep into the couch seat beside her. 

A string of expletives leave her mouth; she can vaguely register the sound of her own voice, but the rest is a blur, all white-light and a burning that builds from her toes. It’s the most intense orgasm of her life, and when she finally comes back to Earth, Judy is still kneeling between her legs, her mouth glistening with her own come, and it should make her feel embarrassed (because Judy’s right, she can feel it running down her thighs) but the sight is so impossibly erotic, that she can’t help but bring her fingers to push at Judy’s lips. Judy takes her, opens her mouth and sucks on her fingers, and suddenly Jen wants to fuck her again; she wants to leave her marked and gasping for air, and so she leans down, replacing her fingers with her own lips as she kisses her, all tongue and teeth. 

When she pulls back, she quickly redresses herself as Judy jumps to her feet, and then she turns, grabbing her by the waist and squeezing her ass. And God, she feels so good.

“I hope you realise I’m nowhere near done with you,” she husks, and Judy leans into her, kissing her jaw and biting her neck.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”


End file.
